Gray Crusader
by SeleneHime
Summary: N is a prince of pawns who has yet to learn that there is no such thing as a universal truth. His truth is all he knows, and Ghetis intends to keep it that way. [Collection of short stories, scattered throughout a pre-B/W timeline. Rating may change with new additions.]
1. Heirs and Spares

_Even though she never knew her son, N's mother always had a special connection to his cause. It just wasn't in a conventional way._

* * *

She was too exhausted to even scream.

Ghetis ran a hand over his consort's sweat soaked hair, red eyed stare entirely detached as he regarded her, her and her heaving chest. When he touched his fingertips to her throat, the blonde's pulse pounded against his touch. "It's been too long," he said, quiet.

The next contraction rippled through her. Unlike the first, it barely squeezed a whimper out of her. Three days was long enough for any woman. Three days was also enough to make a patient man just the opposite. The last check had proven his son to live even still, trapped within the womb that housed him, but for how much longer, he knew it wouldn't last. Neither of them would.

When his bone-tired physician returned, a steaming mug of coffee in hand, Ghetis allowed the other man a curt nod. "Take him."

The older man's lips parted, perhaps to protest, before he thought better of it and set his precious caffeine down. Even the sixty seconds - he counted every one of them - to scrub elbows to fingers took too long to suit the jade king's waning patience. While he counted, he secured the leather cuffs. It was far too late for anesthetic, and they all knew it. Nevertheless, sacrifices had to be made.

Blood ran easy under the edge of the scalpel, further saturating ruined bedding with a pitiful cry when opened from hip to hip. Ghetis ignored her breathless pleas to Arceus, intent upon the gloved hands that slipped inside of her. Every minute adjustment of the doctor's arms as they pushed deeper into her swollen abdomen was plain as day. Nothing escaped him. It was a shame the opposite couldn't apply with his consort. His fingers tightened against his thighs.

It wasn't until his son came into the world that a bare smile twitched Ghetis's lips. The long-awaited wail of a newborn was what cemented it onto his face.

He already had the dark towel ready when the little prince was passed to him, and soon, only a tiny red face, topped with leafy green fuzz, poked out of the cloth. It was when his physician reached for needle and thread that Ghetis spoke, only then looking up from his heir. "You're done here."

"Sir, I -"

"You're done here. I trust that I don't need to repeat myself, again," Ghetis said, bland.

Color drained from the doctor's face, before he remembered his standing and made the wise decision to let himself out. His consort bore the same ashen cast, her bloodless lips moving, but no sound escaped them.

Ghetis stroked her wet hair once more, and smiled. "You've birthed a king." A prince of pawns, perhaps, but even a simple pawn was capable of a checkmate. "Your crowning achievement, even …" he mused, and offered a glib shrug. Ghetis shifted the child in his arms when she strained to see him, and straightened. "A pity that it's impossible to martyr the living."


	2. Blood of the Convent

_isn't always thicker than the water of the womb._

* * *

Daddy said he had to be perfect. He said that he was broken, that he was fixing him. N wished it didn't hurt so much.

The little boy sniffed and rubbed at his face as a furry body pressed into his arms, before wrapping the zorua in a tight hug, clinging to her. He was still bleeding on the floor. When his lips moved against her fur, the words that escaped them shuddered and shook. "I … W-what's wrong … what's wrong with m-me, Zel?" he whispered, and swallowed hard when tears threatened to come again.

Daddy would be upset, if he was crying again.

The pokemon nuzzled his face, warm tongue licking at the tear tracks. "_You're perfect to me."_

N shook his head, but ran a gentle, trembling hand over the fox's dark fur. "... How?"

Daddy was always right. If Daddy said he was broken, he was. If Daddy said he was fixing him, he was.

"_You're kind."_ Zel licked his face again, catching the stray tear that escaped his reddened eyes. "_You're kind to me and the others, no matter where we came from. No matter who had us before."_ Her cool nose pressed under his ear when she rubbed against him again, tail swishing against the boy's bare legs.

The green haired boy hugged her tight, biting his trembling lip. "Does … does Daddy think I'll be like them? Like the people who hurt you?" Daddy said humans were evil, deceitful creatures. Sneaky, he'd said, when N had asked what 'deceitful' was. They hid their true feelings until it suited them. They were dangerous. So dangerous. His friends were all proof of that danger. They'd all come to him, hurt. Scared, sometimes angry. His eyes still watered. "I-I don't want t-t-to hurt you," he whimpered, and sniffed again. He lost the battle with himself. Hot tears ran down his cheeks all over again.

A worried whine escaped the fox in his arms, and she shifted, squirming to sit upright against the curve of his bent knees and put her paws against his unbuttoned nightshirt. Dark fur stood out against his pale skin, but less so against the purple blotches on it. Some of them were turning yellowish. Pokemon with fur may not have gotten them, at least where they could be seen, but Zel seemed to know they hurt, because she avoided touching them. "_I don't know."_ Zel's ears tilted back, a soft breath escaping her delicate muzzle. "_But I don't think you will. I know you won't."_ She licked at his tears again, gentle. "_I trust you."_

Trust. There were so many rules about trust. Who to trust and who not to — only the few people that Daddy approved of, and then it had more rules about how much and with what; the pokemon that they saved and brought to him, when it was so hard for him to even help some of them; and Daddy himself — but if she trusted him, that was good, wasn't it? Wouldn't Daddy be pleased?

"_I love you, N."_

He trembled. He shook like leaves he'd never seen, leaves Zel had told him about when she compared his hair to them. N almost choked on his tears. "P-pl-pl-ease d-on't," he gasped, "pl-please don't h-hurt me!" His heart pounded in his throat, even with the hug turned death-grip on his friend.

Daddy loved him, too.


End file.
